The Road Not Taken (Willingly)
by RainyMittens
Summary: Elize, the daughter of the gym leader Norman, seriously doesn't want to be a Trainer. Naturally, everyone in the world seems to want her to be one. When she moves to Littleroot town, somehow she finds herself stuck with a pokedex and a torchic. Determined to prove once and for all what a terrible trainer she'd make, Elize sets out on her journey. (Emerald Nuzlocke adventure!)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Before I start this story, I probably ought to explain it. This is the account of a nuzlocke run of Pokemon Emerald (for the uninitiated, a nuzlocke is essentially a runthrough of the game in which you can only catch the first pokemon you encounter on a route/area, and if a pokemon faints it is effectively considered dead and can never be used again). So I played the game, recorded everything that happened, and then started writing. In other words, this follows the story of Emerald as things turned out the way I played them, and with my own takes on characters and events. Okay, this author's note is getting kind of long, so I'm going to post the rules I followed at the bottom.

* * *

I never really wanted to be a pokemon trainer.

What's the big deal, anyway? It's all just guts for glory, might makes right idiocy. But when your dad's a gym leader, it's all anyone expects out of you. What if I wanted to be a researcher, or a nurse, or open a shop? Nope, all anyone wants to talk about is how far up the League I could get.

But here I am with this damn orange bird who won't shut up about how many fights he's going to win me, and I can't help but wonder how the hell I got here.

Well, okay. I know how I got here. It went kind of like this:

It was my 15th birthday when me and my mom moved to Littleroot town, a far cry from the busy streets of Goldenrod that I was used to. My dad had already moved out here a couple years back to take over the Gym in Petalburg, and the first thing my mom told me to do after getting off the moving truck was to check out the gift he had left in my new room. It was a freaking clock. I could tell my life in Hoenn was off to an excellent start.

"Go next door and meet the neighbors, Elize! I hear they have a son your age," trilled my mom, shoving a basket of cookies into my arms.

_Better get it over with_, I thought, heading out the door. Littleroot was a small town, grassy and surrounded by tall evergreens. It reminded me of the area near the Ilex forest south of my old home, but the air here was a hell of a lot cleaner than in Goldenrod.

I sized up the surrounding houses. The one on the left had a bike outside that was roughly me-sized parked in the lawn, so I figured that that was the house my mom had been talking about. I marched up to the door, balancing the cookies in one arm, and knocked. A moment later the door was answered by a curly-haired woman about my mother's age.

"Oh! Hello," she said, smiling and opening the door all the way to let me in. "You must be Norman's daughter. I saw the moving truck outside your house a little while ago."

"Yep, that's me," I said halfheartedly.

"Oh, Brendan will be so thrilled to have a neighbor his own age," the woman gushed. "He's upstairs right now, why don't you go and meet him?"

"Uh, sure," I said. Man, I really needed to learn how to say no.

I climbed the stairs, realizing belatedly that I had forgotten to fork over the cookies. Ah well, there was always the way out.

At the top of the stairs there was a wood-paneled hallway with four doors leading off of it. Luckily I didn't have to look far, because the one directly to my right had a sign on it-holographic, neon pink, and bordered in flowers. The least garish thing about it was that it said "Brendan's Room" on it.

I stopped and observed it, fascinated. Did people really make things like these? _Why? _More to the point, why was it on this guy's door?

Seized by a morbid curiousity, I went inside. Nobody was there, so I looked around. Bed, dresser, hardwood floor. Nothing special. There was a PC on a desk in the corner, which upon closer inspection turned out to be locked by a password. Too bad. But one of the desk drawers was open slightly...

"Hey!"

I jumped, almost dropping the basket, and whirled to face the door. A very surprised looking boy was standing there, wide-eyed in his sports gear and white hat.

"Hi," I said, raising my eyebrows and trying to look innocent. A smile probably would have worked better, but...nah.

"What are you d—oh. Are you the one who just moved in next door? That gym leader's daughter?"

"I have a name," I said, not quite able to keep the sourness out of my voice. "It's Elize."

He edged towards the desk where I was standing, looking preoccupied. "Right, sorry..." he muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "You're Brendan, right? Don't worry, I didn't touch anything."

He looked relieved. "Oh, good," he said, then quickly added, "not that there's anything to see!"

"I bet," I said. We both stood around awkwardly for a moment after that. "Wanna cookie?" I eventually offered.

"N-no thanks," stammered Brendan. "Listen, I promised my dad I was gonna help him so I gottagobye," he said, the last part coming out in a rush as he grabbed a bag off the dresser and dashed out the door.

"See ya," I said to the empty air, and sighed. So much for making new friends.

I made my way back outside, dropping the cookies off with a cheerful farewell from Brendan's mother, but on my way back to the house I heard a noise. Up by my house, in the foresty area behind it, there came the sounds of someone yelling and dashing through heavy brush.

_Not my problem,_ I thought instinctively, making a beeline for the side door.

"Help! Help meeeeee!" Cried the voice, getting closer and clearer. I gritted my teeth. If it was up in the trees and tall grass, whoever it was was probably tangling with a wild pokemon. I _really _didn't want to have to deal with that.

Unfortunately, before I could make up my mind on what to do, a man burst through the bushes with a Zigzagoon in hot pursuit. And boy, did it look pissed. The man and I locked eyes for a split second, and with a sinking feeling I realized that there was no backing out now.

The Zigzagoon growled threateningly and cornered the man against the wall of my house. The man flatteded himself against the wall, looking pleadingly at me. "Y-you! Go get my bag...it's by the big tree! Use one of the pokeballs in it...hurry!"

He looked desperate, which was almost comical considering the size difference between him and the 'Goon, but for some reason I found myself doing as he said. I went into the forest, casting around until I saw a brown bag dangling from a tree branch. I didn't bother to pull it down, instead just fishing around inside until my fingers closed around a pokeball.

I paused there for a moment, looking at the object in my hand. "Oh boy," I muttered.

Back at the house, the man was frantically trying to prevent his ankles from being bitten by the wild pokemon. "You're back!" He cried in relief. "Hurry up! Go! Get it off me!"

I didn't even look at him, instead concentrating on the 'goon. Was I supposed to catch its attention first, or...screw it, I thought, then threw the pokeball. "Go!"

The ball burst open, and a Torchic came out, chirping enthusiastically.

I pointed at the Zigzagoon. "Get 'em," I commanded, and the little bird slammed itself full-force into the unprepared Zigzagoon, which promptly yelped and dashed off into the bushes.

The Torchic hopped about, celebrating its victory, while the man I had just saved mopped his forehead with the sleeve of his white lab coat and sighed in relief. "Whew, you really helped me out there," he said, then took a good look at me. His brow furrowed. "Wait a minute, you wouldn't happen to be Norman's daughter, would you?"

_Of course,_ I thought, but said aloud, "Yeah, I just moved here today."

He beamed. "Wonderful! It must be nice to have the family all in the same place, eh? Oh yes, I should have introduced myself. I'm Professor Birch. My laboratory is in town; I was conducting a bit of field research when I accidentally stepped on that Zigzagoon's tail..."

"It happens," I said, though I really wasn't sure if it did.

"Well," said Birch. "Why don't you come on back to my lab? My son Brendan is supposed to be helping me today-he's about your age and-"

"Yeah, we already met," I interrupted.

"Goodness, you certainly are busy," said Birch. "Well come on down anyways. I really ought to thank you for today."

"No, that's fine," I tried, edging towards my door, but Birch would have none of it. One way or another, I found myself in his lab, white-walled and cluttered with all kinds of machinery I didn't recognize. The professor used the landline to call Brendan, who hadn't shown up yet, while I examined a nearby computer that seemed to be displaying the skeletal structure of an Azumarill.

After chatting with his son for a few minutes, the professor turned back to me. "Don't mind the mess. I don't often have time to clean up, you see," he explained sheepishly. "Now, as for Brendan, it seems that he's gone ahead to do some field work up by Oldsdale town. I'd like to ask you to fetch him back here-I've got a surprise for each of you," he told me, smiling broadly.

"Um," I said. "Can't you just ask him to come down over the phone?"

Birch waved his hand dismissively. "Where's the fun in that?" He said. "If you're worried about wild pokemon...well, as thanks for earlier, I'd like to give you the pokemon you used in battle against that Zigzagoon!"

I twitched. "No thanks," I said reflexively.

"Nonsense," said the professor. "Don't be shy. Take it!" He thrust the pokeball into my hands.

I stared at it, but before I could do anything else, the professor turned me around and propelled me through the door, telling me, "Now go and show your new pokemon to your mother, I'm sure she'll be delighted!"

Outside, I found that I couldn't stop just standing there and staring at the pokeball. I held a life in my hands; a small life that I never asked to be put in charge of. With a sigh, I pressed the button with my thumb. I had better at least explain my intentions.

The Torchic popped out. "Hey," I said, "listen, I'm-"

"Wow! Hey, are you my trainer now?" The little bird chirped eagerly, hopping up and down in excitement. " You were pretty cool a while ago! Are we gonna go on a journey? I've been waiting forever for this, just you watch, I'll be so awesome I'll just look all our enemies in the face and go WHAM and take 'em out in one-"

"Whoa whoa whoa," I interrupted. "No. I'm not a trainer. That old guy just kind of pawned you off on me, so if you're looking for fights you're out of luck."

"_What_?" Said the Torchic. "No way! You...you _look _like a trainer, you gotta be one!"

"What kind of logic is _that_? Nope, I'm just taking you up to grab Birch's son and then explaining this whole thing. Maybe he'll give you to someone who actually cares."

"But, but! I wanna be the best!"

"Go nuts. But I ain't helping you."

"Awww," said the Torchic, his enthusiasm instantly wilting, and it was so damn cute that I almost felt bad.

"I better show you to my mom anyway," I muttered, heading up towards my house.

Predictably, my mother was thrilled. "Hey, mom, look at this dumb bird I got" went over astonishingly well, probably due to her joy at seeing me actually with a pokemon, like a _real _trainer. She hugged the tiny pokemon to her chest, spouting baby-talk at him and ignoring his attempts to escape.

"Heeeeeelp," he choked, "noooo, let go of me! Lady! Are you listening? Let goooooo! Trainer, help!"

I smirked and watched his struggles, arms folded firmly over my chest. "Better get going," I said after the little guy's efforts became too pathetic to watch any longer. "I'm supposed to go find the professor's son somewhere."

My mother released the Torchic as she stood up, who began to gasp loudly in relief. "Okay, dear, have fun and be safe out there. Your father would be so proud of you," she said.

I tightened the bandana around my head with a scowl. "I'm not going to be a trainer," I said. "I'm just doing this one little thing."

"Sure, dear," said my mother, in an infuriatingly patronizing way. "See you later!"

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A/N post script: All right. First of all, thanks for reading, and if there's anything you'd like to comment on, for the love of god, please do. It's hard to get motivated about writing when you don't know what the reception is!

THE NUZLOCKE RULES (Elize edition)

1\. Any pokemon that faints in battle is dead and must be boxed permanantly.

2\. The first pokemon encountered in each area is the only one that may be caught, and all of them must be named.

3\. No duplicate captures.

I really wish I could draw, because then I could do this in the ever-popular comic form. But oh well!


	2. Chapter 2

There was plenty of long grass on route 1, meaning plenty of wild pokemon. I really didn't want to walk through it.

"C'mon, what are you waiting for, find someone to battle!" whined the Torchic, bouncing around impatiently.

"I don't want to battle," I growled back, already beginning to lose my patience.

"Why not?" Asked the Torchic. He finally stopped hopping around, pausing to stare at me with his head cocked to one side.

"Because," I said.

"Because why?"

"Because I don't want to!"

The Torchic tilited his head one way and then the other. "That's not really an answer," he said.

"Yeah, well, it's the only one you're getting," I muttered.

"But if we battle, then I'll get really strong and we won't have to worry about anything!" He declared.

"Or you could _die_," I snapped back, much harsher than I intended.

The Torchic was quiet for just a moment. "Yeah, that's true," he said. "But I won't! Because I'm super-special-powerful-strong."

I snorted. "Yeah right."

"Seriously! I'm—"

He was interrupted by a wild Poochyena leaping out of the grass in front of us, barking in challenge. Without missing a beat, the Torchic engaged it, staring it down as they circled each other.

"Just you watch, Trainer Lady! I'll show you what I can do."

"What you're gonna do is _get out of the way_," I barked as the Poochyena surged forward to attack.

"Whoa!" said the Torchic, and retaliated by swiping his talons down the Poochyena's face. It yelped as the claws raked its sensitive nose, before loosing a howl to re-invigorate itself. It came at the Torchic again and this time scored a hit, knocking the smaller pokemon back.

"Hit it in the face again," I urged the Torchic, despite myself. He complied, striking at the same spot as before and setting the Poochyena whimpering and covering its face with its paws, getting up a moment later only to flee into the grass.

"Woohoo! Did you see that? Wasn't I awesome?" whooped the Torchic. I was surprised to find my heart pounding.

"That was...not bad," I said, more to myself than him.

"Toldja," he said, puffing up his feathers in pride. "Hey Trainer Lady?"

My attention snapped back to him. "What?"

"Are you gonna give me a name? Trainer's are supposed to give us names, ya know."

"Yeah, I know. And the only thing I'm giving you is back to Professor Birch."

"Awwww, c'mon!"

We continued this argument up on through Oldsdale and to the north, where Brendan was allegedly waiting. His white hat came into sight as he stood peering intently into the nearby river, scribbling into a notebook.

I motioned at the Torchic to shut up as I greeted him. "Hey, Brendan, what's up?"

Brendan glanced over at me. "Elize? Shh, I'm watching a school of Carvanha," he said.

I glanced down into the water. "Those things are freaking ugly," I said.

"I think they look cool," whispered the Torchic from down by my feet. I shot him a glare.

Brendan now seemed to be checking all of his pockets for something. "Arrgh, I could have sworn I brought some," he muttered before looking up at me. "Hey Elize, d'you have any Pokeballs? I thought I brought some, but..."

I showed my empty hands and shrugged. "I'm not a trainer, don't carry 'em."

"You're not?" Brendan asked in surprise. "But your dad's—" I scowled. "Okay. well, if you're just starting out, I got a pokemon from my dad too. Wanna fight?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Torchic practically radiating excitement over this suggestion. "Yeah, whatever," I sighed.

Brendan grinned. "Go, Mudkip!" He cried, sending out his own pokemon, a blue mud-puppy thing.

"Do your thing, bird," I said with a vague hand-waving motion. The little guy went at it with a vengence, distracting the Mudkip with a shrill growl and then scratching at it with his sharp claws.

"Don't let it get you," said Brendan. "Lower its defense!"

"Finish it off before he can get another attack in," I found myself ordering, and to my surprise, it worked. The Torchic came away, bruised but triumphant, while Brendan returned the exhausted Mudkip to his Pokeball.

"Wow," said Brendan, obviously impressed. "If that's your first time fighting a trainer battle, you did pretty good."

"I didn't really do that much," I said, less out of a sense of modesty than of the desire not to get roped into more battles. "Oh yeah," I said, suddenly remembering, "your dad told me to come and get you. You gotta go back to the lab."

Brendan smacked a palm into his forehead. "I totally forgot! Those things were coming in today...sorry, gotta dash! I'll meet you back at the lab," he called over his shoulder as he took off down the hill.

"Great," I said, hands on hips. "Now what?"

"Aren't you supposed to be there too?" Piped up the little bird at my side.

"Ugh. He better not try to make me do some crazy errand again," I muttered.

_An hour later..._

"Ah, Elize, you made it back! I was just telling Brendan about the mission I was about to give you two," said Professor Elm.

_Damn. _Barely through the door, and there he went again...

"I'm all ears," I said heavily, reassuring myself that I whatever it was, I could always say no.

Yeah right.

The professor held up two hand-held computer-looking gizmos, beaming excitedly. "I just recieved these pokedexes from Kanto! Now, a pokedex is like a pokemon encyclopedia..." He prattled on and on about how the Pokemon in Hoenn hadn't been properly catalogued, how he wanted me and Brendan to tour the region and collect data. "So how about it?" Asked the professor, holding out the two pokedexes.

Brendan instantly reached for his, but I stayed put.

The professor gave me a questioning look. "Having second thoughts?" He asked.

I wanted to tell him that I didn't even have first ones, but for some reason my mouth scrambled to cover me with a polite response. "Yeah, sorry, I mean, I just moved here and I'm not sure if my mom would want me running around Hoenn," I lied. Hell, she'd probably pack my bag herself, say I had to go "find myself" or something.

"Oh, that's too bad," mumured the Professor, frowning.

"You could at least ask," suggested Brendan. I supressed the urge to step on his foot.

The Professor brightened up. "Yes, I'm sure if I had a talk ith her, she would understand. Why, I'll call her right now!"

_Double damn. _"Oh, no, you don't have to-" I started, but he was already reaching for the phone.

"Hello? Oh hi, Mrs. Leblanc, this is—huh? Oh, yes, yes, my wife is fine...Yes, your daughter's right here with my son, and actually I was thinking of giving them each a Pokedex." There was a sudden enthusiastic outburst on the other side of the line that I could hear even from where I was standing. I winced. The Prof chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure he'd be delighted to see her too."

They were talking about my dad, I was sure of it. Dread gripped me in its steely jaws as I imagined the emotionally-restained display of fatherly love I was sure to recieve if this venture went through.

After chatting for a few more moments, Birch asking if the move had went well, telling my mom where the best place to go for groceries was and all that jazz, he hung up the phone and turned to me and Brendan with a smile. "It seems like she's happy to hear you're finally starting out on a journey of your own," he said. "I wish I could see the look on your father's face when you show up at his gym!"

It took everything I had to supress that shudder that went that ran through me. "Yeah," I said.

The Prof handed me the Pokedex, and then forcibly turned both me and Brendan around by our shoulders. "Don't let me keep you two young adventurers! The world is a wonderful place! I'm sure you'll see many amazing things along the way..."

"You ain't gonna see a thing for a week if you don't get your hand off," I muttered under my breath, but the Prof was getting all misty-eyed and didn't pay any attention.

"Go forth into the world!" He cried, pushing us towards the door. "The world...of Pokemon!"

"Wow," I said when we were outside. "Your dad's a drama queen."

Brendan adjusted his hat self-consciously. "Tell me about it," he said. "Oh yeah, and he told me to give you these." He handed over five red-and-white standard league-issue Pokeballs.

"Uh, thanks," I said, dumping them in the bottom of my bag.

I looked around. The town was pitifully small, the only Trainer route being the one I came off of earlier. "Where the hell are we supposed to be going?" I asked.

"Um...I guess...wherever we want?" Brendan tried.

"I want to go to my room and never come out again."

"I'm not really sure that's an option."

"Great. Where are _you _going?"

Brendan looked thoughtful. "The routes lead through Oldsdale through to Petalburg, and then Rustboro...it's all searoutes from there unless they finished that tunnel from Rustboro to Verdanturf."

I sighed. "Is there any way to go _around _Petalburg?"

"Not really."

I swore inwardly, and then out loud too for good measure. "Sacred birdshit."

"Uh, what?" said Brendan, perplexed.

How old was this kid? "It's, y'know..._swear words. _Y'ever hear of 'em?"

"Of course I have! I've just never heard that one before."

I remembered belatedly that I was in _Hoenn_, not Johto. "Sacred bird. Ho-oh. Top of the Bell Tower and all that. It's a Johto thing."

"Oh. Yeah, we don't use that one."

I was intrigued despite myself. "So what _do _you say in Hoenn?"

Brendan shrugged. "'Great Skies', 'Great Deeps'...or just 'Deeps', I guess."

"That is so lame," I snorted, vowing silently never to say anything that sounded that dumb, ever.

"Well, the...the ocean is such a big part of the region, and the weather is..." Brendan was trying to defend his pitiful homeland, but I had already lost intrest.

"Okay, so are we leaving this dump or not? I want to get this over with."

Looking at his watch, Brendan sighed. "I suppose we should get going." He glanced sidelong at me. "So, um...did you want to travel together, or...?"

He looked a bit wary. The reluctance was mutual, because I had no intention of going anywhere with this straight-laced Camper Laddie. I felt kind of bad for being a dick to him all of today just because I was in a bad mood, though, so I said. "I dunno, you actually seem to have a plan in mind. I was just gonna go off and do my own thing."

He looked a little relieved and a little disappointed. "Oh. Well, I'm sure I'll see you down the road somewhere," he said. He waved and turned to go. "Well, have fun with your Pokemon."

"Yeah. You too. I guess." I muttered the last part as he took off towards the entrance to Rt. 1.

I stood in front of Professor Birch's lab, weighing my options. I didn't have any travelling gear, but I didn't relish the thought of facing my mother right now. I deliberated for a few more minutes before an idea struck me—I loosed my Pokemon from its ball.

"Bird," I barked. "We're going to my house. Distract my mother."

The little thing shrunk back in terror. "What?! Her? Can I like, tackle her or something this time?"

"No," I said. "Just look...cute, or whatever."

"But I don't want to!"

"Shut up, I don't care."

An hour later I was on my way with the minimum amount of maternal doting over and the maximum amount of useful stuff I could carry on my person. Like money.

"That sucked," complained the bird, his feathers all ruffled from being fussed over relentlessly by my mother.

"Deal with it," I said, as we walked up the path leading to Oldsdale. I didn't bother going into any of the tall grass, so thankfully, we didn't run into anything.

Oldsdale, just like before, was a depressingly small town almost as pathetic as Littleroot. Pretty much the only thing remotely interesting there was a Pokemart, and a Pokemon Centre too. Guess I'd be needing to look out for those from now on...

"Where we goin', Trainer?" asked the bird.

"Shut up, not a Trainer," I said tiredly.

"But the lab coat guy said you were! So did your crazy mom."

"So what?"

"So," said the bird, puffing up his feathers, "you gotta give me a _name_!"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "If I give you a name, will you shut up about it?"

"Yeah! Promise," he said, eyes glittering so adorably I had a sudden urge to drop kick him. I resisted.

"Fine," I said, and then realized I had absolutely no inspiration. There was a Mart, there was the PC, a house, the crazy footsteps dude...no help there. I rubbed my forehead. "Hickory," I finally said. It was the first thing that came to mind.

There was a pause. "Hickory? Is that...that supposed to be it?"

Strangely, I found myself annoyed at the disappointment in his tone. "Yes," I snapped, "So get used to it, bird!"

"But, but it should be something awesome, like Deathlord McKill!"

"I think I just got stupider from hearing you say that."

"No way, it's cool!"

The argument continued until I realized we had exited town onto the wrong route, and consequently that I was actually arguing the relative merits of the name "Murderfull" as opposed to "Grapplemaster".

"This is stupid," I declared, "and also, we're on that pointless dead-end route."

"Oh, yeah," said the bird. "Better go back!" He immediately leapt off the short ledge we had been walking along the edge of. Straight into the tall grass.

"Hey!" I said.

"C'mon down," he replied cheerfully, barely visible through the thick grass.

I scowled, hesitating. "I'm going to put you back in your Pokeball," I warned.

"I wanna fight! Come on!"

The ledge wasn't tall. My feet already brushed the grass when I put my toes out over the edge of it. It wasn't such a big deal to pummel wild Pokemon, I supposed, as long as it would shut the damn bird up. I hopped down.

"Woohoo! All right! Now let's go find someone to beat up," the bird cheered, dashing into the grass. No more than a second later, he yelped "Oops, sorry! I mean, hey!"

I waded my way through the grass towards the ruckus, cursing my descision to wear shorts today. "What in the hell d'you think you're doing, bird?" I called.

"Justaminute I'm—whoa! Hey, cut it out!"

I waded faster, scowling. Luckily the really thick grass thinned out before I got to the bird, and I got a clear view of the proceedings, consisting of my bird getting chased around by another bird, which was blue and flying after my bird on its long narrow wings.

The device I got from the Prof pinged from the front pouch of my bag, and I dug it out.

"Wingull, the seagull Pokemon," chimed an electronic voice, going on to state it's habitat, diet, and a bunch of other crap I didn't care about.

"Trainer! Do something!" cried my bird, dodging a blast of water from the Wingull. Oh yeah, he was a fire-type.

"Stop being a Dogs-damned coward," I said. "Dodge the water, then attack while it's recovering."

The Wingull let out a squawk and shot water from its beak again. "Now!" I barked to my bird, and he froze, letting the Wingull keep flying overhead. "Tackle!"

The blow sent the Wingull toppling down to the ground, my bird landing on top of it. "Just keep pecking it," I said. He complied.

The Wingull's beak was longer, nailing my bird in the face when he leaned back to attack again, and he was pushed off. The Wingull staggered to its feet, clearly exhausted but still standing. My bird got up too. "Hey Trainer," he hissed to me, "they look tired. I think you can catch 'em!"

"Yeah, but do I want to?" I said.

This didn't seem to have occurred to him. "Yeah, but...you're a Trainer," he said uselessly.

The Wingull was in pretty rough shape. Plus, if I was actually going to go to Petalburg, or anywhere, really, I'd probably need more than just a pint-sized football-shaped bird.

"Whatever," I said, digging in my bag for a Pokeball. "Distract it."

"HEY! I'M TOTALLY GOING TO ATTACK YOU AND STUFF!" yelled my bird, hopping up and down. The wingull looked perplexed.

My hand closed around a smooth spherical shape, and I whipped my hand out of the bag. "Okay," I muttered, "here goes." I threw it.

The Wingull's eyes widened in surprise as the bright light of the capture net burst out of the ball and enveloped it. The ball toppled to the ground, twitching once, twice...and went still. The bird and I stared at it, waiting. Nothing happened.

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I went to draw a new one in.

"Oh boy!" shouted the bird, "another team member! This is soooo cooool!"

"Great, another annoying thing to follow me around," I said, but my heart wasn't really in it. My first capture, huh? I mentally chided myself. Yeah right. I was only in this 'til my parents stopped nagging me about it. "We better get back to the PC in town."

After the Wingull got healed up at the Center, we hit the real road to Petalburg.

"You gonna name her?" asked the bird. Wait, pidgeyshit, there were two birds now. Hickory, I relented grudgingly in my mind.

"Yeah, whatever, I'll call her—"

"Wait! You can't just tell me, you have to tell her!"

Sighing, I released the second Pokemon to join me on this ill-fated journey. "Hey, I'm your trainer, I'm calling the shots here and blah blah blah, hope you don't have any expectations, 'cause I'm probably not gonna meet 'em."

The blue bird stared at me through its weirdly glossy, expressionless black eyes. "So...you're a trainer?" she said.

"No," I said.

"She's actually really good!" chirped Hickory, completely ignoring me.

"Shut up," I told him. "So what, you want a nickname or something?"

"Oh...sure," said the Wingull.

I shrugged. "Abby, then."

"Okay," said Abby the Wingull, totally impassive.

I turned to Hickory. "Okay, you see there? _That's _the kind of attitude I'm looking for."

He stuck his tongue out at me.

"C'mon, we're going to Petalburg," I said. "Keep a low profile, I don't want my dad making a big deal as soon as we get to town." I turned and began walking.

"Don't worry, she's not all that bad," whispered Hickory behind me, presumably to the new addition. "And she's awesome at battling!"

"Great," said Abby, with absolutely no change in tone. I was already beginning to like her, despite myself.

* * *

The party so far:

Hickory (Torchic)

Abby (Wingull)

* * *

A/N: First party member's a go. Phew. I'm not used to writing really long stories, but I decided to give this a shot. Elize isn't exactly the nicest person around, but if we're lucky she'll improve, with the magic of character development! ...If we're lucky.

R&amp;R, please! And thank you, also.


	3. Chapter 3

The route to Petalburg was a short one, but this didn't stop wannabe Trainer kids from hanging around with their pet Zigzagoons pretending they knew how to fight. Abby, handily equipped with nimble wings and a keen eye for weak spots, water-gunned them into submission while Hickory leaped on them and scratched with wild abandon.

I peered around the next bend in the path to see a kid with a bug net and an absurdly large straw hat looking around expectantly. "Damn," I muttered. "Bug Catcher. They are the _worst._"

Hickory hopped up and down. "Is there a Trainer over there? Huh? Huh?!"

"Quiet," I said. "We're going through the woods. Maybe he won't see us."

"This seems like an awful lot of trouble," said Abby blandly.

I bristled. "Hey, who's in change here?"

She shrugged her wings. With no further argument, we snuck through the woods, past the vantage point of the kid with the net. I just knew if he saw me he was going to gush about the power of bugs for like an hour, regardless of how hard I kicked his ass in battle. I shuddered, remembering the Bug-Catching contests they held north of Goldenrod at the National Park, all the crazies who used to attend. I wasn't taking any chances here.

Fully absorbed in avoiding detection, I failed to notice the large pool of water to my left. I also failed to notice the Lotad lounging in the grass nearby. I became _very _acutely aware of both at the same time, when I tripped over the latter and found myself hurtling towards the former.

"Son of a bitch!" I cried, splashing down into the shallow pond.

"Hey!" said Hickory, hopping up to stare down the Lotad I had tripped over. "You gonna apologize?"

The Lotad stared at him blankly for a moment, before opening its mouth. A large spitbubble formed, and it was all Hickory (and I) could do to stare at it in fascination as it grew larger and larger. Then it popped.

"Argh!" yelped Hickory, falling back. Belatedly I realized that it had been an attack.

"Hey, Seabirdscuit! Do something," I called to Abby, as I heaved myself out of the water.

"Like what?" she said, perched on a nearby branch.

"I dunno, like, peck it or something! Attack!"

"Yeah, okay," said Abby, then spat a jet of water at the Lotad, which was turning around to face her in a very slow and unconcerned manner. The water didn't seem to bother it much.

"Screw it, never mind," I snapped, realizing the obvious type disadvantage. "Hickory, you're up again."

"You got it, boss lady!" cried the Torchic, springing to his feet and tackling the Lotad. It landed on its back by my feet, looking stunned.

I stared at it. It blinked, then waved its tiny legs in the air ineffectually. I sighed, and produced a pokeball from my bag. "This is stupid," I said, leaning down to bonk the Lotad with the ball. It disappeared inside without so much as a twitch.

"Looks like the team's growing," said Abby.

"Whatever. I'm just trying to make it look like I actually tried," I said. "Maybe then my dad will leave me alone."

"Who's your dad, anyways?" chirped Hickory. "What's your beef with him? Why're you doing this?"

Dogs, he asked so many questions... "He's a Gym Leader, okay? My whole life, everybody wanted me to be just like him. I don't want to be like him! I don't wanna inherit the gym or whatever! I just wanna do my own thing."

"You don't have to be a Gym Leader to be a Trainer," Abby pointed out.

I looked away. "Yeah, well...I don't wanna be a Trainer, either. The whole 'beat the Champion' thing is stupid."

"Whaaaat?! No way! It's super important," cried Hickory.

This time it was my turn to ignore him. I kept walking.

"Hang it down," said the Lotad, in a voice that was curiously deep yet somehow still feminine.

"Uh," I said, staring down at my new addition to the "team". After a surreptitious trip to the Petalburg Pokemon center, now we were lurking in the shade behind the building, out of sight from the street. "So, like, do you want me to call you something, or what?"

"Yeah sho' 'nuff go a'haid," she mumbled.

"Make it something cool!" Hickory chimed in. I shot him a glare, then returned to staring at the Lotad. She looked pretty much useless, top-heavy with the lilypad-head and with a totally zoned-out look on her weird beaky face. I sighed and ran a hand down my face.

Today was turning out to be a very long day.

Suddenly, something occurred to me. "Don't any of you, like, _come _with names? What do your dumb buddies in the wild call you?"

Abby shrugged her wings. "Eh, names among wild Pokemon aren't really as important as they are to humans."

I switched my gaze to her. "So, what? Everybody just calls you Wingull no.5 out there?"

"We don't need names out there. It's kind of a rite of passage thing after getting a Trainer."

"Oh," I said. "Okay, but I'm out of ideas here."

"Goat, plum give me some dojigger," said the Lotad.

"Do you speak regular English?"

"Dis jus' be how I rap, coo'?" she said.

"Okay...sure," I said slowly, feeling a headache coming on. "Whatever, I'm calling you Swagga. Swagga T."

"What's the 'T' for?" Hickory wanted to know.

"I dunno, short for Swaggalicious? I don't really care," I said.

"That shouldn't have a 'T' in it," said Abby.

"How about 'Swaggatastic'?" Hickory suggested.

"What part of 'I don't really care' did you fail to understand?"

The newly-christened Swagga T made a sound that sounded either like something laughing or choking to death. "Dese are pretty fun sucka's ya' gots."

Today was turning out to be _the longest day in the history of time_.

* * *

The party so far:

Hickory (Torchic)

Abby (Wingull)

Swagga T (Lotad)

* * *

A/N: Things are shaping up! Now half a team has been formed. And we've reached Petalburg. Wow, look at all this progress. By the way, I used a jive translator for all of Swagga T's dialogue.

Please R&amp;R! I would really appreciate it :)


	4. Chapter 4

The instant I stepped out from behind the building, my dad was right there.

"Ack!" I yelped, nearly walking into him. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," he said, beaming. "Your mother called and told me you were starting out on a Pokemon journey. I knew you'd come around eventually."

I glowered at him, feeling the presence of my three Pokemon behind me very acutely. "Okay, yeah, I did it. Look at me, dad, I caught some Pokemon and everything," I said, then threw a heavy shrug. "Well gee, that was fun, guess I'm gonna go home now."

"You can't give up before you even reach the first Gym challenge," he said.

"Fine. Your Gym's right there, just give me a beat-down so I can run home crying and pretend this never happened," I said, pointing to his Gym.

"This isn't the first Gym in the League Challenge," he said sternly. "You know that. I can't fight a sanctioned match against you unless you have the prerequisite badges."

I spread my arms wide in frustration. "Then let's have an _un_sanctioned match! I don't care!"

We stared at each other for a moment, neither of us relenting until my dad looked away. "This isn't a good place to talk. Come to the Gym with me."

I rolled my eyes, but followed him, returning all of my Pokemon to their balls.

When we got to the Gym, it was empty. "It's closed today," my dad said. "I was about to go down to Littleroot to help unpack, but then I heard you were headed up here."

"Yeah, well, I'm here now," I said. "Now what?"

He sighed. "Elize...you're fifteen now. You're old enough to go out in the world by yourself. Professor Elm is trying to give you an opportunity to do that."

"Yeah, by 'volunteering' me to help with his little pet project," I scoffed.

"It's more than that. I heard he gave you a Torchic? That's a rare Pokemon, Elize. Hoenn is a beautiful region—I want you to be able to explore it, as a Trainer."

"I _don't want _to do the Gym challenge, Dad," I said. "Are you listening to the things I'm saying? Do you care?"

Dad closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't understand it," he muttered, maybe more to himself than me. "When you were younger you couldn't _wait _to become a Trainer."

"Yeah, that's because I didn't realize what a load of pidgeyshit it all was."

He opened his eyes, fixed me with the most fatherly of his disappointed looks, but before he could say anything the door burst open.

"Sorry I'm late!"

It was a boy about my age, tall and gangly with scruffy greenish hair and weaing a dorky dress shirt/pants combo with the shirt tucked in and everything. He bent double as soon as he got inside, breathing so hard it sounded like he'd just run a marathon. Dad and I watched mutely as he fumbled in his pocket for an inhaler and took a few quick puffs.

"Hello, Wally," my dad said after he was done. He checked his watch. "You realize you're an hour early, right?"

From the look on his face, this appreared to be a stunning relevation to Wally. "What...really?" he gasped. "I'm so sorry, do you want me to come back later?"

Dad sighed. "No, no, it's fine. Maybe this worked out for the best." He gestured at me. "Wally, this is my daughter, Elize. Elize, Wally here lives in town."

I gave a short little wave. "Yo."

"U-um, hi, nice to meet you," Wally stuttered. It was almost cute.

"I offered to show Wally how to catch Pokemon," Dad explained to me. "I'd like you to come along."

I was going to protest, but he gave me a look. The kind of look you don't argue with. "Fine," I said.

We went to a patch of grass just out of town, Wally babbling about how excited he was to get his first Pokemon.

"All right," my dad said, halting just at the edge of the grass. He held out two Pokeballs to Wally, one empty, one with a Pokemon inside. Wally took them almost reverently as Dad continued. "I want you to go into the grass and search for a Pokemon. The grass is their territory; by invading it you are opening yourself to a challenge. Just as we humans have our conditions and rules for battle and capture, so do Pokemon."

I leaned over to Abby, who I'd let out of her Pokeball earlier to let Wally gush over and get his attention off me. "Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. She didn't elaborate.

"Huh," I said.

Dad was still talking. "...Pokemon have their own unique body language and signals that they give at the beginning of a match, which determines whether the opposing Pokemon will submit to capture, or whether it's a fight to the death." He stopped, fixing an awe-stricken Wally with his gaze. "Some Trainers and their Pokemon, as well as wild Pokemon, will challenge you to death matches. _Do not _enter them lightly."

Wally nodded vigorously.

"Now, today I've brought you here to perform your first capture," Dad went on. "The first and most important thing to keep in mind is that both humans and pokemon send out subconscious signals." He tapped his head. "Each of us has psychic energy, however negligible. The greatest bonds between trainers and their pokemon form when you rely on your subconscious rather than trying to force it."

Wally was practically starry-eyed by now. Dad looked at him sternly and continued.

"This also applies to captures. Pokemon that approach of their own free will may have been attracted to you subconsciously. Learning to trust your instincts and read a pokemon's body language is a skill that takes a long time to master, but it's the most useful skill a trainer can master. Understand?"

Wally nodded. I glanced at Abby again. "Really? Were you 'attracted to my subconscious' or whatever?"

"Maybe. I wasn't picky."

"Great, guess I should consider myself lucky then," I said sarcastically.

Wally said, "Okay, I think I'm ready." He was practically vibrating with nerves, looking simultaniously terrified and excited.

Dad nodded. "Walk into the grass," he instructed. "I'll advise you as you go."

Wally edged into the grass, looking back over his shoulder nervously at my dad, who nodded encouragingly. I folded my arms. "Dogs, kid, c'mon," I muttered.

After a moment of tentively glancing around from his postition five baby-steps into the tall grass, Wally yelped and jumped. "Oh, Deeps! T-there's a Pokemon!" he cried.

"Good!" said my dad. "Send out the one I gave you."

Wally tossed down one of the Pokeballs he was holding, and a Zigzagoon popped out.

"Now attack to lower its health!"

"Um...t-tackle?" said Wally, pointing forward. I couldn't see what kind of Pokemon it was from where I was standing, so I settled for rolling my eyes at Wally's lackluster command.

The sounds of a scuffle came from out of the grass, the other Pokemon presumably returning the 'goon's attack.

"You're doing well," said my dad. "Go ahead, try to capture it."

"N-now?" said Wally, clutching the empty Pokeball.

"Yeah, now," I piped up.

Wally turned and tossed the ball with the girliest limp-wristed throw I'd ever seen. I was actually a little impressed by how unmasculine the boys in Hoenn seemed so far.

Wally's fists were clenched and he bit his bottom lip as he waited to confirm the capture. After a moment, a tiny, barely-audible _click _sounded from the grass.

"I did it," said Wally in a hushed voice. "I really, really did it." His breath was coming in gasps, presumably out of overexcitement.

"Breathe, son," said my dad, going over to pat him on the back. He also retrieved his Zigzagoon, returning it to its Pokeball. He went further into the grass, bending down to pick up the Pokeball with Wally's capture in it, which he placed in Wally's hands. Wally just stared at it.

"So, what did you catch?" I asked.

"Raltz," Dad answered for him. "Psychic pokemon, fairly uncommon in this area. Good job," he told Wally.

"My very own Pokemon," Wally murmured to himself.

My dad gave me a knowing look. "What?" I said.

"You were smiling," he said.

My hand flew up to my face. "No I wasn't."

"You were."

_Damn._

"It was a smirk," I said.

"I'm sure," said Dad, with an insufferable smug look in his eyes.

I stubbornly looked away, and found that there was nothing to do but watch Wally, who was still staring at the Pokeball clutched in his hands like it was a freaking Silver Wing. Like an idiot.

A really happy idiot.


End file.
